Mirror, Mirror
by AllSpiffyAndStuff
Summary: With the help of Seymour Winn-Doe, Jonathan Chiller makes a new friend. [Pre-"HorrorLand" series, highly headcanon-based, contains some light canon weilding between games and books]


"Hey. Hey, you."

Jonathan Chiller's eyes snapped up to the door of his gift shop. Standing in the doorway was a Horror - purple with splotches of yellow, dark eyes, curled gray horns, and a pair of glasses. They held a clipboard in their claws. "You're Chiller?"

He nodded.

"Just got a memo in from Horrifico. He demands more memorabilia sold. And he means _sold_ -" They rose their voice slightly, which made Chiller look down. "Not just given away with your little figurines." The Horror looked up over their clipboard, studying Chiller as the man bit at his lower lip. The Horror exhaled. "I know, I know, it's a lot to ask. But Madison Storm's little screw-ups left us in a bit of a tight spot financially. Horrifico's promised he'll bring the park back to the glory days, we just need to bring in the funds. Alright?" On the last word, the Horror softened their voice a bit. This made Chiller visibly relax, nodding, running a hand through his hair. The Horror smiled. "Alright. I'll tell him you'll cooperate. Which is nice. You didn't want to know what would have happened if you disagreed." They smiled a little wider, showing off their sharp teeth, and Chiller awkwardly laughed. The Horror hummed. "Quiet one," They muttered before turning away. "I'll tell him." They repeated, and then they left, door closing behind them.

As soon as the Horror left, Chiller tensed up, fingers curling into fists. "How can they tell me to run this shop?" He muttered. "I do good for HorrorLand. I do good. I do good." He shook his head, slowly getting up from his chair and slipping into a back room. In the back room, costumes and masks hung on hooks, along with little toys on shelves above every costume. His friends. They all had names. Murder the Clown. Chef Belcher. Mondo the Magical. Madame Doom. Winner Taikall. Seymour Winn-Doe. "Did you hear that?" He asked them, looking around the costumes. "They want me to sell things. More things. All for Horrifico's sake. That's absurd. I'll run this shop however I want to. They'll pay when I'm ready for them to. When I can shoot them all down!" He laughed to himself, smiling, looking at the costumes for any sort of affirmation that this was a good plan. There was none, of course. Still, Chiller grinned a little wider, seemingly just comforted by the costumes's mere presence in the room with him.

He began to walk around the back room, observing the costumes and the little associated toys. He dusted them off, tutting about tears in the outfits ("Got a little hasty with your knife again, eh, Belcher?") and tangles in the wigs ("Murder! You ought to be ashamed, you clumsy clown!") and scuffs on the accessories ("You're not supposed to actually play go fish with the cards on this belt, Winner, we've been over this!"). Finally, Chiller stopped in front of the costume of Seymour Winn-Doe, blinking in horror. Seymour's mask - usually a perfect, glossy mirror - was cracked, and a noticable fragment was missing. "Seymour!" He gasped, "What's become of you!?" Chiller shook his head, pushing aside his fear. "I'll fix you," He said, pulling the mask down and exiting the back room.

Chiller began to rifle through some old drawers, finding one that contained various mirror-glass shards along with a little glass repair kit. He pocketed the kit before gently going through the mirror-glass shards, finding one that was about the right size. He could always break it if he needed it changed. Anything to fix Seymour.

He shut the drawer and came to his desk, setting down the mirror-glass shard and opening a desk drawer. He withdrew a small cloth and some eyeglasses cleaner, shut the drawer, and got to work. You always had to clean the glass before repairing it - the resin might trap some dirt, and he couldn't allow his precious friend Seymour to be forever dirty, could he? He sprayed the glass, then began to polish it, working carefully to ensure not a single bit going along the crack would be missed.

Something strange began to happen.

A dark smudge appeared within the glass.

Chiller's nose wrinkled. He worked a little harder to clear the smudge away, but the fuzzy darkness seemed to spread, moving away from the crack and into the middle of the mirrored mask, seeming to cling on to the reflection of Chiller's own face.

And then Chiller heard something.

It was quiet, garbled - a terrible, bizarre approximation of a man's voice. It was enough to make Chiller stop in his work, confused and frightened. "You're misbehaving quite a bit, Seymour..." He scolded quietly, a hand reaching up to adjust his square eyeglasses.

The darkness began to take on a bit of a shape, and as it did, the voice became more and more clear. "...Two-way mirror - did more of a number on me and my power then I'd thought before..." Chiller could make out the man spitefully mutter as the darkness swallowed his reflection whole and replaced it with a new image. Reflected back at him was a man, a man dressed in all black - dress shirt, tie, long coat - with his face mostly obscured by the shadow of a wide-brimmed black hat. His mouth, as much as Chiller could see of it, was folded into a sneer. Fuzzy images made out a background, though nothing clearly indicated where the person was standing. As Chiller flinched back in surprise, so too did the mirrored stranger, before the stranger smiled. "Ah! I see you..." A small laugh came from him. "Tell me you can see me, too. Tell me you can. I didn't work this hard for nothing!"

Chiller had gone pale, his eyes frantically darting around his shop, as though he might be able to find some clarity somewhere else. He didn't, of course, and his eyes focused back on the stranger. "St-stop it, Seymour!" He scolded again, frowning hard, the cloth slipping from his grasp and falling to his desk.

The man let out a cackle. "So you _can_ hear me!" He exclaimed, all too excited. "Good - good. But I am not Seymour, oh, no. Allow me to...Introduce myself. I am -"

Without warning, the man's head spun a full half turn around.

"Oooh! Let _ME_ see!" The stranger's second face said, leaning a little closer, the face growing bigger in the mirror mask. This face was bright red and looked waxy, all too clear in comparison to the first face's preference for shadow. Where the first face's voice was smooth but imposing, this one was loud, shrill. "You _ALWAYS_ get to have all the fun with these plans. Hello there, sir!"

The head spun back around, and one hand went up, gripping the side of his head. His teeth were gritted. "...Mennis." He hissed through his teeth. "Karloff Mennis."

Karloff Mennis...The name was vaguely familiar, but the kind of familiar that you desperately wanted to forget. Where had he heard of it before? "...What are you doing, stealing my friend's face?" Chiller asked, tentative.

A chuckle. "No doubt you saw the piece missing," Karloff's hand lowered, and he began to gesticulate using it. "I had one of my loyal shadows slink into your precious HorrorLand...And get a piece of a mirror for my own experiments." He allowed his hand to fully lower as he shrugged. "Your 'friend' happened to be my...Latest subject. I hope we can get alo -"

His head spun again. "You're not even going to introduce ME?" Said the red face, sounding mockingly offended. "I'm Lorre! I'M the brains of this operation, so don't pay any attention to what _HE'S_ telling yo -"

Spin. "Shut up, shut up! You're a _mistake_, do you hear that? I'm getting rid of you as soon as I -"

Spin. "Oh, you're _SO_ cruel to me! And after I've been nothing but kind to you!"

Spin. "You're a liar. You think all of my ideas are worthless, when _you're_ the one trying to _kill_ -"

Spin. "You would have ended up killing them anyway, Einstein! FTD! FTD! _F-T_ -"

His head spun one last time. "Shut up," Karloff spat, quieter this time. His head tilted up, his eyes partly coming out of the shadow. He stared through the mirror mask at Chiller, who had completely blanched, paralyzed with fear over the two-faced stranger invading his 'friend's face. Karloff regained his composure, smirking. "Well, you frighten too easy to be any good in my experiments, but...Another ally in HorrorLand could be...Useful." A small laugh left him. "Tell me. Is there anyone you...Want revenge on?"

Chiller's thoughts began to race. He thought of his mother, supportive and kindly, but sheltering and coddling. He thought of his father, ambitious and bold, but overcritical and detatched. He thought of the kids he used to see outside playing, and all the stuffy gross old books he used to read, and all those toys he loved with all his heart, the toys that became his 'friends'. He thought of crossbows and his trembling hands. The color began to return to Chiller's skin, his posture relaxing. "...There is," He replied, though his tone stayed cautious.

"Good - good. What if I told you I could help you achieve those goals? All you'd have to do is aid me."

Chiller leaned closer, intrigued for a moment - but quickly backed away. "With what?"

Karloff's head spun around again to show Lorre's face, but this time, Karloff himself made no protest. "We're going to bring our _beautiful_ park back into reality!" Lorre gushed, a large grin consuming his face. "Oh, sure, it'll take over the whole lot poor little HorrorLand is sitting on...But who'll miss it, right? Certainly not _YOU_!" He leaned in close, eyes rolling around, as though trying to take in every detail of the HorrorLand gift shop that he could see. "I mean, it doesn't look like you're getting a lot of business in this dinky little store!"

"...They...Came in today. Telling me how to run this store. As though my work isn't good enough - as though they know my plans."

Lorre put a hand to his cheek, gasping dramatically, though Chiller couldn't exactly tell how sincere he was being. "See, see? You're looked down on! That's why you should join us! Once our park is back where it should be, we'll give you a high-ranking position! You'll be famous! Appreciated! Adored!"

"Appreciated?" Chiller's mouth became a smile.

Karloff's head spun around once more, and Karloff himself wore a slight frown. "Let's not begin writing checks we can't cash," He scolded, but his frown quickly became a smile of his own. "But...Yes. I'm sure once Panic Park is back in the current timeframe, we can...Negotiate out some place for you."

Panic Park? That had the same almost familiar feeling to it. Why did it sound -

"All you'll have to do," Karloff's explanation jarred Chiller out of his thoughts, "Is send some HorrorLand tickets out to some...Particular children, once I find just the right ones. You can do that, can't you, shopkeeper?"

"Chiller," He corrected. "Jonathan Chiller."

Karloff waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Can you do it?"

"...Of course."

"Excellent. Oh, and Chiller - if you happen to come across one particular Horror among your ranks...Goes by the name of Byron, I think...Tell him that the Menace is watching out for you."

The Menace? Karloff Mennis, the Menace, of Panic Park -

Chiller's head flooded with memories, of flyers around the park and staff meetings with Horrifico, of demands that the Hall of Mirrors close down and that mirrors be removed from the Stagger Inn and any other buildings. Mirrors could be a link, they thought. And if the Menace ever found out...

Well. The Menace had already found out. And really, what had Horrifico ever done for him?

This was _his_ moment to seize.

Father would have been so proud to see him snatching up these sorts of opportunities.

"I will," Chiller said, nodding a few times.

Karloff nodded back, and though his face was still mostly obscured by the darkness, he seemed to be exuding pride. "You haven't seen the last of me. Goodbye, Chiller - don't fail me," He said, waving goodbye with his free hand as his image began to fade from the mask. His head spun around a final time, and Lorre waved goodbye as well, far more enthusiastically than Karloff ever would. His image disappeared, and the darkness left the mirror mask, and Chiller was left staring at his own reflection.

For a long, long moment, Chiller sat in silence.

Then he pulled the mask close and hugged it tight, a genuine grin coming across his face.

"Thank you, Seymour," He said, voice soft but ernest. "I'm sorry I scolded you. I hope you can forgive me. We're going to be appreciated. We are. They'll all see! They'll all see!"

It was nice to finally have a friend who wasn't a toy or a costume.


End file.
